Remember Me
by Jugband Arnold
Summary: Written off an Amnesia Prompt given to me on Tumblr. Angsty Angst.
1. Chapter 1

_No idea if all this is medically feasible at all._

The counselors did prepare you for this. But nothing can really prepare you for this, nothing can prepare anyone for this. So you tell yourself it's Ok to be human for a moment, just a moment before you go in and see her. But that isn't going to be enough. So you take your time. A minute to tell yourself that this could easily could have been worse. Your wife could have died, but she didn't. She survived serious damage after the accident, and here she was.

_'She's still there, she's still the same person.'_

It's something you've been murmuring to yourself over and over from the moment you were informed of the news. That calms you down a bit. A tiny bit.

But then the overwhelming sadness overcomes you. That she doesn't remember your name, the color of your eyes, their little escapades in the interrogation rooms, all were going to be nothing now. Nothing to her. In this very moment, you were no one to her. No you can't think of that again - You tell yourself you have to get this over with and see her. And it's your wife, your loving, adorable wife - but you're dreading this moment.

Composing yourself, you approach the door leading to her room. You don't want to cry infront of her, you don't want to lose it in front of her, so you take a second to see her looking at the window, squinting at the bright sunlight and you can't help but smile at that.

_'She's still the same person.'_

You step into the room, with the best smile you can manage but the sight of her brings tears to your eyes. Tears that you try your best to stop from falling and trickling down your face. She turns to see you with a smile, that soft smile that kills you. A smile of peace and tranquility, one you've seen only when she wakes up after blissful sleep.

'Hi.'

This breaks your heart. All you want to do is hug her, feel her breath on your skin, feel her hands on your back and feel her lips gently kiss your cheek as you calm down. But you can't. And you find yourself struggling to not let your tears fall and your voice break.

'Hi.'

'I'm sorry I've bit of a problem remembering who's who and …yeah.' she trails off with a little smile. You can see it's killing her to be this vulnerable. You know she's not used to this. But you don't really know what to do. You truly don't.

'I'm your wife Holly.' you say with a little smile of your own, and you can't help it as a tear does manage to slide down your face.

'Oh.' she states back in surprise, her eyes widening as she takes it all in.

'Yeah.' you lick your lips and wipe away your tears, slowly approaching the hospital bed and you give your wife a moment to ponder it.

'I married you?' she asks, her clear voice cutting through the silence, and it truly hurts you. A part of you wants to sink to the floor and cry, but you're trying, trying your best to not break. You nod, without a word, half ready to run out the door.

'You seem like a nice person, I can't believe I married someone like you!' she starts rambling a little and you break into a little laugh hearing that. She's still the little goofball you fell in love with.

'You did.' you say back with a smile, but she hasn't stopped her rambling.

'I mean you're gorgeous and wow…. you're stunning and I am - surprised. I'd never thought I'd marry someone as amazing as you.'

You smile at that, recalling her rambling when she was high on Oxy a long, long time ago. She's still rambling the same way she did, though she doesn't realize it.

You sit down on the chair next to her bed and slowly hold her arm. You would gladly climb into the bed and lie down next to her, but you don't want to overwhelm her, not now. You slowly run your fingers along her skin, to reassure yourself that she's here. With you. In this moment, she's right here.

As if out of habit, she takes your hand and threads her fingers through yours and the simple action calms you down. She's eyeing the platinum band on your finger and plays with it gently. You smile at her, and you allow yourself to just revel in the moment.

'I got you that?' she questions, motioning to the ring.

'Hmm Mmm.' you really don't want to say anything, just allow yourself to feel peace now.

'That doesn't look like something I'd like.' she says, her voice laced with a hint of surprise, squinting as she stared at the ring.

'It isn't.' you reply with a smile as remember the time she proposed to you.

'No?' she stares at you with those guileless, blue eyes and you want to just curl up next to her.

'You want to hear this story?'

'I do.'

'Ok, one day - this was before we were together - we went out shopping - and you saw me looking at this ring - and I wanted to buy it but I didn't because I didn't want to splurge so much on a ring and you didn't even pretend to care and —'

You stop short to see her eyeing your every movement, as if in a daze and you feel so much better. This feels like her, this is the woman you fell in love with, eyeing your every gesture with such adoration, that you can't stop yourself from blushing.


	2. Chapter 2

_Again - not sure if all this is medically feasible._

You're sitting on the hospital bed, staring at Holly who's outside, discussing vigorously about something with the doctors. A part of you still doesn't believe this gorgeous brunette is your wife. You don't understand how you managed that, but you assume you did something right. Steve steps into the room. You remember him, your memories of him being the aggravating brother he was are intact, but you can't remember anything about your wife. You begin to wish that was switched, you would truly love to know more about your wife than your annoying brother. He's giving you the 'Peck' smile, one the two of you had come up with, a fake smile to be plastered on your face whenever your mother demanded it.

'Gail.' he nods at you, shoving his hands in his pockets, taking in the hospital room.

'Steve.' you reply back, trying to be your old self but you find it really hard. You're feeling really vulnerable, cracked open of sorts. The end result is you are coming off slightly stoic and robotic,yet given in to sudden outbursts when your emotions get the better of you, but you can't help it. It feels like someone stuck a hand in your brain and pulled out a part of it, a part of you. It is terrifying, but you know as much that you don't want anyone else to know that.

However, you know Steve knows how you feel. He can read you damn well, though he's never really used that to help you much. Steve knows you. And you think Holly does too. You think.

Your gaze shifts back to Holly outside, who's brushing her loose hair aside with her hand, and you've never felt so utterly hypnotized before. You don't understand why you feel so mushy around this woman, like this woman holds your heart in her hands, but it does. Steve notices you staring at your wife and huffs out loud. You ignore that of course.

'I married her?' you ask Steve. You're really desperate here. You asked the nurse who came to check on you before the same thing as well, but she couldn't help much. Your brother on the other hand, should be of better help.

'Yup. We were all shocked.' Steve replies, in his usual tone. Just as you remember it.

_Why can't I remember you?_

'I loved her didn't I?' you ask out loud, surprised that you're having this conversation with your brother, the last person you'd ever have this conversation with. Steve realizes that his sister is really on an edge, and is trying really hard to get a grasp on things.

'You did, Gail.' Steve replies, trying to be as reassuring as he could.

'But I don't remember her.' you finish dejectedly, your heart really clenching at that. A million things are running through your head, but this is the most pressing thing of all.

'It's gonna be alright Gail.'

'No it's not!' you counter back, glaring at Steve, who's looking back at you with a troubled expression, which isn't really helping you.

'Gail, why don't you see it this way?' he gently urges, and you're sure there's no better way to view the situation. Your gorgeous wife was going to be stuck with someone who didn't even remember her.

'How!' you snap, on the verge of hurling something at him.

'You get to fall in love with her again.' he finishes with a little smile, and it does strike you as a different point of view.

You do get to fall in love with her again, and this time you know she's gonna be yours in the end.


	3. Chapter 3

It's been 2 weeks since you've brought Gail home from the hospital after the accident. All that Gail's allowed to do is attend daily sessions with a therapist and if at the end of it she's cleared, she would have to take a part of her police officer training again. You on the other hand have had a hectic few weeks, which started with you being worried about Gail, worried about how you were going to cope with everything, worried about how Gail was going to cope with everything and worried if your wife would be the same again. The past 2 weeks have been rough. Gail was being immensely reclusive, and you didn't want to press her for anything. You decided it would be best if Gail dealt with things on her own time, and you're going to be whatever she wanted you to be. It doesn't mean it's easy. It's been extremely tough on you. Every night, all you want to do is hug her tight as you sleep off, but the doctors have warned you to not do anything you think Gail wouldn't approve of – and that is the last thing you want to do.

Gail's still the same person - but you can't deny there are a few changes in her. She doesn't as talk much, doesn't pass as many sarcastic comments as she used to, doesn't seem to be overly interested in things. She's asked you a lot about yourself, and you've obliged. Every time. She asks you the same questions a million times, and it hurts you. 'Coz you know she's trying to commit you to memory, so that she would never forget you again. But that's it. She doesn't share anything about how she's feeling, how her sessions were, nothing. And you decide that she would come around whenever she feels ready to do so.

Perhaps what gets you is the silence in the house, even when she's there. Gail normally played something out loud whenever she was home, either the T.V, the music, the X-Box, anything. But all that's stopped now, and the house has a zone of silence which you don't dare to break. You both eat your meals in utter silence, and go to bed without a word. It feels so empty, but you don't dare push your wife, in the fear that she might run away as she so famously proclaimed the first time she met you.

It's been a long day for you, your first day back at work. It felt good to be back to something familiar, and you had quite a long day at the end of which you just wanted to fall asleep. But you don't do that. You're scared of going to bed at the same time as Gail, because - you're scared. It's illogical you know, but you're so terrified of doing anything. It feels like you are tip-toeing your way around broken glass, and you don't want to do anything you would regret. So for the past two weeks you've waited till Gail went to sleep, and had gone to bed an hour after she did. So, after handing Gail the pills she had to take, you start clearing up the dishes, thinking that Gail would as usual go upstairs to bed. She doesn't however. She's standing there, playing with the glass of water, and you can see she's trying to work up the courage to ask you something. This kills you. You've never seen Gail Peck fumble for words, she was always ready with a comment to throwback at any hour of the day. But you're trying to not put pressure on her. So you pretend to not notice it and you continue going about doing the dishes.

'Holly?' she asks, her voice sounding small and scared, and all you want to do is hug her and make her feel better. But all you do is turn back and look at her with a concerned glance, and return back to putting all the dishes away.

'Was I a good wife?' she questions, and you stop dead at that. You're utterly broken hearing those words and for a moment you can't move at all.

'I was just wondering because what I remember of myself isn't that great and I don't think I could have been a good wife - or something.' she goes on, and you're so close to falling to the floor and crying. But you realize it's not you who's broken. It's your wife. You remember that she was always this vulnerable, only that it was normally hidden under a veil of sarcasm. You realize that your wife needs to be reassured. So, you throw caution to the wind, you leave the dishes on the counter, rush to her and grab her face with both your hands and kiss her hard. It feels so familiar and good, and a tear starts rolling down your face. You break the kiss and you see your wife with her eyes closed, half on the verge of crying herself. You kiss the length of her jaw, your hands moving down and firmly gripping her waist. You feel her legs wrap around your own waist, and your holding on to her tight, kissing her neck as you feel her arms around yours. You've never felt so utterly lost and so blissfully happy at the same time. You can feel her breath on the top of your head, you can feel her heartbeat next to your ears, and all you want to do is rest your head against her chest right there. So you do, and you feel her fingers through your hair and it all feels so familiar, intimate. It feels like you've found a part of yourself again, and you're breathing hard against her neck, wishing she could feel how much you love her. Finally words come to you, and go over them twice in your mind.

'Don't ever say that Gail. It breaks my heart.' you whisper softly, hoping that she hears you. You know that she does a second later, 'coz you can feel her gripping you tighter. You're kissing every inch of skin of hers you can find, not realizing you're already crying as you do. You look up to see her looking down at you with those gorgeous blue eyes and looking right into them, you tell her the words you've been telling yourself from the day you married her.

'You're the best thing that's happened to me Gail. You always will be.'

With that, she brings her hands to cup your face and you're kissing her again, feeling her soft lips press against your own feels after such a long time feels like ecstasy. You carefully carry her from the kitchen to upstairs, all the while kissing her, and when you do finally reach your bed, you fall back with your wife in your arms. She kisses your neck before resting her head there, and you hold her tight as the two of you slowly drift to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

You wake up in the middle of the night, only to find yourself alone on the bed. The other side of the bed - seems as cold as ever. You're surprised by this; you thought Holly was right there, sleeping besides you. You sit upright, leaning against the headboard, waiting for her to come back to bed. It had been nice to fall asleep next to her, her arms wrapped tight around you and you wanted her back in bed. It was as if before you weren't actually sleeping at all - and now - sleep felt like this blissful past time and you wanted your wife beside you so bad.

It really confounds you. How you can't actually remember her - but you know you need her. You need her validation for everything you feel, her approval of everything you do, and now - you need her to fall asleep. It's insane. You turn on the bedside lamp and you're looking about the room. Nothing changed in here since the last time you saw it. You can't help but do this - you're truly afraid you'll wake up once again and everything would be different. You think of the last few things you do remember - and none of it seemed to be that great. You were in training at 15th Division, you were dating Chris, and you certainly were not on good terms with people in general at all. Now you're here - in this comfy place to call home, an amazing woman to call your own, and you can't deny that this feels like an upgrade. It does feel like someone make your dream come true, and here you are. It doesn't take away the fragility of the whole situation though, because just like a dream - you fear you'll wake up and be back to your old self, the one you remember.

You're torn between two points — to be your old self - where the world made sense again - or whether to adapt to this really good life you've built for yourself. Then again - there is no choice.

You pull open the drawer of your bedside table, hoping to find some sleeping pills there. You were prescribed them in the event you ever need them. And you're sure you don't need them right now - but you don't want to wait for sleep any longer. Your thoughts are painful enough as they are, without the lying in bed and pondering. You don't find any there - which is when you realize the old you used to keep pills by bedside table, aspirins mostly - and here you are searching for something that has long since changed. You do find some notes you had scribbled there. It seems eerie to read something you know you've written, but you can't exactly remember.

You know that's your handwriting, but this is so freaking strange. It's a crumbled up piece of paper, and from the looks of it - looks like your wedding vows. It's probably the paper you read your vows from - to your wife - at your wedding. You remember watching the video of it over and over - and you realize this is the real thing.

You can't help but snort at that - never would you have thought you would see the day when you read hand-written vows and keep them safe. And now – you can't remember it.

You decide to find your wife and ask her for the pills. You assume she's downstairs on the couch - as you found her a couple of times. You never really understood why she was asleep on the couch instead of her own bed - but you assume it's some quirk of your wife's that you don't remember.

You stop outside the bathroom when you realize she's in there. Without actually thinking, you open the door and step in. You see your wife is in the bathtub, sitting up and holding her knees, lost in thought. You slowly walk to the end of the bathroom and sit on the floor, leaning against the cabinet, and you raise an eyebrow at her. She smiles back at you with a little chuckle, and you see how she smiles this lopsided grin. Your heart flutters every time you see it, and it gives you a bit of a reassurance that this was all real. As real as it could be.

'What's so funny?' you ask, seeing that your wife looks so tired and worried, sleep deprived even.

'It's just - you sat in the exact same spot with all your hair chopped off.' she replies, slowly relaxing herself.

'I had my hair cut?' you ask in surprise, last time you remember - you wanted to grow your hair - nice and long, deciding to count the inches as well.

'You cut your hair yourself.' she replies with laugh, and you're instantly surprised at that.

'I cut my own hair?' you're truly surprised, and you laugh a little as you picture yourself cutting off all your hair.

'It was one of your drunken endeavors.' she sighs, remembering how Gail sat there, utterly broken after that fateful day.

'That does not make me sound good.' you reply, confused. Apparently you were quite a surprising person.

'No it does not.' she says back, laughing out loud, and you can't help but feel that is the most comforting sound ever, hearing her laugh.

'Don't worry, you pulled it off.' she finishes, lying back in the tub and resting her arms on either side, and realize this is the first time you're seeing her naked, and isn't she utterly gorgeous.

You take a moment - and thank your lucky stars that your wife is as smoking hot as she is sweet. You must be pretty obvious with your emotions, because she's smirking right back at you.

'This tub was where you saw me naked for the first time as well.' she smiles back, and you haven't felt this dehydrated ever.

'Well, that's two for two then.' you comment back and she huffs at that, splashing some water at you.

That was the closest to a snarky comment you had come up in a long time, and you're grinning like an idiot. Finally a part of you feels like yourself again.

Perhaps this was going to be ok after all.


	5. Chapter 5

It all starts about a week into getting back to the force. You can't remember when exactly it started - but you're sure it all started somewhere. Perhaps it was the slight hesitation you had in drawing your gun from its holster, the flash of doubt as you aimed it, it had to begin there somewhere. It was at the end of your re-training do you realize how uneasy this made you felt. You're constantly anxious, ever- ready to leap forth - but you also realize that it's draining you. You're doing things without actually stopping to think about them, and after pondering over it all for a while, you see how terribly fit you truly are for all this.

Maybe it was the first time your memory almost blacked out at the firing range. You can't understand why - but the echo of those bullets really jolted you - and for a minute you could have sworn it was all dark. You somehow managed to pass the test though, and no one seemed to notice you frazzled you were at the end of it. You can't understand how you managed to shot right on target when mentally you were freaking out about the weapon you were firing. After that session, you remember going back to the range and trying to piece together all that happened. The last time

you were here, which according to your memory is about 6 months back (but in reality was 4 years ago), you seemed to have enjoyed it. A lot. After trying a lot - you decide like the rest of the things, you would get used to this.

After all, you were a cop. That's pretty much the only solid fact that you remember. That you were on the way to being a fine cop, one who could shoot criminals from a mile away, and outsmart the most conniving mobsters and so forth. And here you are - again - back on track (of sorts), on the way to being the cop you were destined to be. And you're sure all this apprehension and doubts would fade the minute you got back into action.

And here you are - Everyone's keeping an eye on you - trying to make sure you're doing fine and nothing goes wrong. And you're also trying to not be the centre of attention too much. You never enjoyed that anyway. So, you pretend everything's fine, cause you can feel the pressure of it all falling on you, and you in your desperate attempt to make sense of it all - are just holding on, hoping that things would soon fall into it's place - just as it did with Holly.

You don't remember falling in love with her the first time, something you're truly ashamed of - but from what you've seen of her, the way she takes care of you, treating you as if nothing ever really changed, and constantly reassuring you that she's there no matter what. You don't remember loving her, but you know that you do. The brunette has this calming, soothing effect on you. She feels familiar, and when you're with her, at home - the weight of it all falls away.

You know she fell in love with this blonde cop, and though you can't wrap your head around why, you have this urge to be your old self, for her sake, for everyone else's sake. And you're wishing that was as easy as it sounds.

It's the fourth day after stepping back into work, and you're assigned to look after the prison cell down at the precinct. Not too much phsyical, just to keep an eye on these two hooligans who're in for drunken driving, and they're both cussing at you at the top of their voices. You're trying not to lose your cool with the language they're throwing around, and ignore them, but they don't seem to be getting the hint.

You can feel the blood coursing through your veins, every muscle in your body tightening, and you're doing your best to not do much - and the next thing you know is Chris is pulling you away, dragging you almost, and you see that one of those guys passed out on the floor, blood flowing down his face. The other guy is staring at you in white horror, and you don't realize that it was you who punched and beat the guy unconscious till you see his blood on your own clenched fists.

You remember that you were angry but you don't remember anything else. At all.

The minute you come back to your senses Chris lets you go and your brain is immediately in overdrive. What the hell just happened? Surely you didn't punch that guy? You were breaking up a fight the two drunks were having? Was that what happened?

Chris is just as clueless as you are, he had stepped in thinking the morons were hurting you. He in his usual oblivousfashion, shrugs it off saying the two probably did deserve it. But you're more terrified at the gap in your memory your brain was making. Or much worse - the horrible things you were doing in these little blackouts.

You fidget your way through the rest of the shift, and finally at the end of the day, you rush home and lock yourself in the bathroom. You really wanted some peace and privacy, and you had been dying for a moment alone since the whole thing went down. Holly wasn't home yet, and you're grateful for that for once.

You're clutching the edges of the sink, and staring at your reflection in the mirror. You don't look quite different from what you remember, save a different haircut and a few lacerations on your face from the accident, you look the same. Except for some reason the longer you stare at your reflection, you feel the anger rising again. You can taste the bile on your tongue, you breath rate rising and the clutch you've got on the sink growing tighter as you grip it, you can feel the blood almost stagnant in your fingers as you hold on, and you're still eyeing your reflection in the mirror with a mix of horror and anger.

_What have I become?_

The next thing you know Holly is calling out your name. You turn to look at the door, and you're trying to understand what happened. You look back at the mirror, except there's no mirror there.

_It was just there -_

You step back in shock. This was too much catching up for your brain to do than you could manage. As you let go of the sink you see that there's blood again on your hands. Only this time it's yours - and your fist is bleeding with little shards of glass sticking out from the back of it. You can hear Holly still calling out your name, banging on the door and begging you to open the door.

_Did I hurt her? Oh God don't tell me I did._

You take a minute to do what you've learnt to do, something it seemed like you were going to have to do for a long time. You notice the shards of broken glass in the sink, and see the blood on your hands - and decide that you must have thrown a fist at the mirror. You slowly walk towards the door and unlock it, and you find an extremely flustered and terrified Holly, who's shrieks seeing the blood on your hands.

She takes a hold of your right hand and you finally decide to give up and tell her about how you're feeling.

'Hol, I don't feel so good.'


	6. Chapter 6

_Dear Guest, of course I was going to continue this. I wanted to for so long, believe me._

_This is for the ex-wife Debby, Hi dear!_

_No clue if all this is medically feasible. _

You're worried. Well_ that's_ an understatement. You're more than worried - you're horrified and thoroughly shaken up for the umpteenth time in the last few months, worried will forever be an understatement. You don't know how it is you got through the past hour, but you somehow did. After finding Gail with a bleeding fist and about to faint, you did your best to push the worried wife part of your brain to a corner of your mind and focus on the injured hand. Gail did completely breakdown and in between sobs had explained to you what the problem was and you just heard them, not caring to listen too keenly. You were intent on being doctor now - and bandaging up the hand the best you could with Gail constantly fidgeting and not seeming to understand what was happening at all. You don't understand everything she's saying - but you're comforting her all the same. She kept apologizing - saying she didn't mean to hurt you and you're not trying to make sense of it right now - just anxious to get Gail to calm down and stop crying.

That somehow ended with you, lying on the couch with Gail still sniffling a little into your side, her bandaged hand resting on your chest, trembling slightly as it does. After a few moments of silence with emotions a bit lowered now, you had gently asked Gail what exactly was wrong and she explains it to you - and every time you see she's getting hyper you calm her down, constantly reassuring her and telling her it was all alright.

By the sounds of it though, things seemed far from alright.

This agonizing mixture of emotions you feel is pain enough - you're glad she told you about this, but now your doctor mind is working at top speed - trying to understand what was going on.

You're grateful that nothing untoward hadn't happened yet - and torturing yourself thinking of scenarios that could have gone so wrong. Most importantly - you're thankful she's safe and hasn't hurt herself during these blackouts. You can't decipher much - only that the stress was probably triggering the spells of broken memory - and that was it.

That wasn't the last of the tumble of emotions though.

You're infuriated that she didn't tell her psychiatrist about anything - and you really want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her hard for that. And this infuriating emotion - where you're trying to empathize with her and understand why she would do something as juvenile as this. And the other emotion – where you see that she was worried that she had hurt you during one of those blackouts. One thing was certain - you were most certainly going to attend her next session with Dr. Taylor - who better immediately bar your wife from going back to the force. At least temporarily.

One of Gail's pleas was something you really couldn't comprehend. She kept begging that she not be taken off the job. And you don't understand why. Gail kept going over how she could not quit the force under any circumstances - and you really don't know what to reply to that. You had just told her that it wasn't necessary to jump to conclusions right now - and all those decisions can be pushed back.

You're rubbing her back as she shifts slightly - you can see she's tired and completely drained - but not asleep yet. She had jokingly told you a few times that she was scared of falling asleep and waking up to find that another 4 years had passed - and though she meant it in jest - you know that Gail's completely terrified of that. You would be too if you were in the same position.

So, that was settled - you're going to her next session with the psychiatrist - and the rest of the decisions could wait.

* * *

><p>The psychiatrist's office was a rather gloomy place - you could see why Gail absolutely hated these sessions - it was the opposite of encouraging, depressing and dull. You're doing your best to not come off as too worried and in turn stress out Gail any more stressed than she is. She's fidgeting right next to you, squirming in her seat - waiting to be called into the doctor's office. You're holding on to her uninjured hand tight, hoping that Gail doesn't worry herself sick about everything.<p>

You're also bracing yourself for what was to come - you were finally going to get some insight into how Gail was mentally coping with all this - see how all this was affecting her.

You don't know where to begin - when you start to think of that - you don't know what's going on in her mind - why she was excessively worried about things you had never seen her worry this much about. You realize that this isn't the Gail you married and built a life with for so long - this is Gail before you met her - and she is the same person - but then again - radically different.

You can see she's nervous about this session - and undoubtedly - so are you.

* * *

><p>Dr. Taylor had been surprised to see you accompanying Gail - and had immediately scheduled scans for Gail the same afternoon at the hospital on hearing about the gaps in memory. You can see Gail's discomfort at being back in hospital yet again, but you decide it's time to be firm with her. Gail kept asking if she could continue working at the force - and the doctor had given the same answer you had - that the scans would reveal better information.<p>

The rest of the session was - enlightening to say the least. You had learnt that Gail was still - in her head - keen on becoming a cop and perhaps a detective, her part of _keeping up the Peck name_ she called it, and had discussed that she was still angry with Andy for sleeping with Nick. In your head, these are incidents of ages ago - and you're trying to wind your own brain back four years - not that that was going to help much. Gail was still guilty about the Jerry incident to Traci – saying over and over that she could never apologize enough to Traci about him.

You can make out that this was a rather feistier Gail - more like the cheeky woman you first met at the Robbie Robbins case - less like the endearingly sarcastic woman you had married. It doesn't bother you much - but you hope that realization may help you deal with Gail better.

Finally - you're back here - holding her hand tight as you're waiting on the tests. You're gripping her hand tight more for yourself than to comfort her - hospitals have not been a nice place to you for quite some time. You don't say much as and she's been rather silent since the session, agitated and with an expression of worry etched on her face.

You're lost in thought yourself when her clear voice brings you back to the isolated waiting room of the diagnostics office.

"We'll get through this right?" Gail asks in a shaky voice, swallowing half the words.

You nod in reply, smiling ever so slightly as you do.

If there's anything you've been sure off - it's that.

_A.N: *Whose line is it anyway tone* And what I want from the audience is a suggestion of an alternative carrier for Gail, passive preferably like a writer or such. _


	7. Chapter 7

_Debby darling don't do this to me, I won't break your heart again, I swear!_

_Zero Idea if all this is medically feasible._

_Isn't this just terrific._ You don't hear much after the first few sentences the doctor said. It all sounds like muffled, blurry noises to you now. You can feel a hand gripping yours tight, but you're ignoring that for now. The news you just received from the Specialist now was enough to zone you out.

It's a jumble of emotions. Rage, desperation, ache, and denial all rolled into one. You're sitting as still as you can in the uncomfortable chair with your feet flat on the ground and your mind totally elsewhere. The doctor could have recited the whole Bible after the first few sentences and you wouldn't have noticed at all.

Oddly enough - the first thought that strikes you is this - Isn't this normally the scene where the protagonist of every cheesy movie ever had an epiphany of some sort? Where the hero realized that he must persevere no matter what? No such luck for you here. What you're feeling is quite the contrary. Defeat has picked up by the neck and strangled out the one last joy your life you had, plucked it right out of your heart and is now carrying it away from you, right in front of your eyes. The one thing you found some consolation in - the one thing that had remained constant both before and after your memory loss, your one guiding light was going to be snatched away from you - and you had no other choice but to let it go.

You jerk up after what feels like ages to realize that the doctor had long left the two of you alone.

"What were all those words she was saying?" you ask, hoping against hope that maybe you misunderstood some part of it. That this was just your mind being it's pessimistic self and nothing had really happened.

Seeing your wife swallow her breath and bite her lip for a second before she replies is more than enough for you - but just to be sure - you want to hear those words anyway.

"The gist of it is - you can't be a Police Officer anymore Gail." she solemnly says, and you nod in reply. Rather too vigorously.

"Isn't that wonderful." you mutter, probably coming across deranged. Not that you can help it at this point. Right now - this doctor's office is too small, the air in here too stuffy and you've learnt more than enough for the day. You get up and for the first time you see how wobbly your legs are. You can barely stand - but you so want to get away from here right now - you somehow struggle and reach the door - but not before the doctor gets back.

"Gail, we aren't done here yet." she says as kindly as she can - the kindness however is stinging you right now.

"I think I've learnt enough for the day Doc. If there's anything more I need to know you can tell me tomorrow." you cut back in one sharp breath - and before leaving you can see Holly hasn't moved from her seat at all.

"Or you can tell my wife over here." you finish and drag yourself right out of the room. The Doctor doesn't stop you - you're glad of that. Perhaps if she had you would have gone wild again and have to be sedated or something. Right now - all you want to do is just get out of here.

* * *

><p>Dr. Taylor does come back and explain the whole medical background of the case - how it was a case that was way too risky to be operated on, with no guarantee of any improvement - the bottom line was - Gail could not be any better than she is now. And Holly really had no other choice but to accept that.<p>

"Does she know about - ?" the Doctor gestures and Holly shakes her head.

"I was to tell her but all this started up." she sighs, and the Doctor nods in sympathy.

"She knows precisely what you've told her."

"Yep."

* * *

><p>Well, you had no idea where to go, it was all a very nice plot to get out of the hospital and all that - but Holly had the car keys - where on Earth were you supposed to go. You're just pacing around the car - your legs seemed to have found their function now - and you're pacing furiously around the car. That's how Holly finds you - walking circles about the car - going fast enough to make you dizzy. Holly doesn't say anything as she unlocks the car, and you scramble in - too distracted to care to see if it's even Holly.<p>

"I wanna have a drink." you groan - and you know precisely what the reply was going to be.

"You aren't allowed to drink Gail." she reminds you - and wasn't that another straw on the camel's back.

The drive back is silent - you fidgeting with your seat as Holly wordlessly drives - you're pulling away at the fabric of the car seat, trying your best to keep your emotions in check. You have this sudden urge to lie down, your legs are shaking so bad, you can barely make a coherent sentence with the way your thoughts are rushing. You're fiddling with what you thought was the lever to get the seat to lie back - but your trembling so bad you might break the thing.

"Doesn't this seat recline?" you rant - a tone that is a mixture between anguish and terror. With a little help from Holly - the seat does recline and you're now lying flat on it, too distracted to care if you've reached home or not.

Oh the onslaughts of thoughts were terrifying. What were you going to do? How were you going to ever gather the courage to go back to the station you used to call home and tell them you can't work there anymore? What were you going to do for the rest of your life? How were you going to cope with the fact that the one thing you want to do is the one thing you can't do at all? This was just splendid.

The questions never stopped really, though the car did at some point. Holly probably asked you to get inside but you didn't hear her. Your ears have been ringing for quite some time now. So she left you here – hoping you would come inside when you deemed you were ready to do so. It's now a quarter to ten in the night and you haven't eaten for a while. You're still lying in the car alone, Holly's inside - and has left you alone to take in the information.

After a lengthy mental talk with yourself, you get up from the passenger seat and move into the drivers - plugging the key in the ignition and without another thought about the rather odd time - you drive off to the Peck Residence of course.

The drive itself is a distraction - your thoughts have quietened a little. And when you do ring the bell at the front door - you can picture the disappointment on your mother's face already.

"Gail? What are you doing here so late? Is everything alright?" your mother starts gushing - and it throws you off a little. This was not the Elaine Peck you knew.

"Guess what Elaine, henceforth I can't serve in the Force - so I can't be any more of a disappointment to you now." you exclaim -trudging into the old house and throwing yourself on the couch. The reaction you get from your mother is rather surprising. For starters - you did not expect her to have tears in her eyes, with a genuine look of concern on face.

"What's happened?" Elaine asks in a motherly tone, and for some reason that's brought forth these tears you didn't even know you were holding in.

"Something about high Cortisol levels and stress and memory gaps. Holly can fill you in on the Neurology part. The gist is - I can't be in the action anymore." you explain -your voice going from a rather loud tone and ending with almost a whisper.

"You needn't quit Gail - you could always take up a desk job at the precinct or -" Elaine offers, but the sympathy again. It's killing you. Whoever thought sympathy was a comforting emotion was an idiot.

"I can't - I can't do that. I just can't" you reply shaking your head. The very thought of that - seeing your colleagues and peers all do the one job that gave you so much joy - nope the jealousy is enough to make you burn right now.

"Gail you needn't jump to anything right away." your mother softly explains, sitting in this high chair looking right at you.

"I just wanted you to know that I've disappointed you yet again –so ." you begin again - throwing every other emotion that's rising up aside. The hurt in your mother's eyes as you mouth those words though - not helping.

"Gail - let me one thing very clear. It's that you're not a disappointment at all." you mother begins, getting up and sitting down next to you on the couch. You had not come here expecting praise - and all this was rather bittersweet.

"The 15th division is proud of you. The Toronto Police Department is proud of you. And I am proud of you. Okay?" Elaine continues - and you're biting your bottom lip, not actually believing this was happening.

"You were a marvelous police officer Gail, I know you don't remember any of it but you're going to have to believe me on this. You were an amazing police officer, a proud upholder of the Peck name and you're going to be a difficult loss for the 15th division to cope with." Elaine finishes and you can't help it as you burst into tears. For the first time in what feels like eternity - Elaine hugs you as you sob, and this faint feeling of relief is heartening.

After a hearty cry - the two of you share a cup of tea - rather late in the night, and though things seem a little brighter - there was still one pressing question.

_What were you going to do?_


	8. Chapter 8

_But Debby darling, twas I who put you there in fanfiction Hell - what with my predilection for angst. How are we going to work?_

_Savageheartmind - Kudos for being on the money with Gail's career. _

The past few weeks have been exhausting to say the least. Gail's been running around town - meeting up with way too many people - almost as if in a hurry to get out of the force. You can see that ever since Gail heard the news - she's been dying to get out. The urgency to do so though - painful, desperate - as if she were trying to wash off something that was scarring her. You can't help but feel helpless. There's nothing much for you to do but offer moral support to Gail whenever she needed it. It's a blur to you - it must be an even bigger blur to Gail - meeting up with officers who were her friends - their sombre farewell to Gail, all of them promising to meet up at least once a month at the Penny.

Finally after days of heading back and forth to the precinct restlessly - Gail finally flops on the bed one night - tired and apparently done with it all. You had been waiting up for her - knowing very well that the minute it was all finalized would be the minute Gail realized that she wasn't in the Force anymore. So you waited up. And when she does finally flop on the bed after hours of paperwork - you can see the defeat written all over hear face.

"Well it's over now." Gail sighs, facing the ceiling with her eyes closed tight. You're biting your lip as usual - a habit that you've gotten rather recently. You had learnt to rethink your words - knowing that Gail was sharper than ever, focusing too much on details.

"Gail, I'm not going to even try to imagine what you feel like - but I'm sorry." you tell her, not caring if she hears you or not. You need to say it. It's been wringing your heart to see Gail give up the one thing she held so close - something that almost became synonymous with her.

"Do you mind that I'm not the blonde cop you fell in love with?" Gail dejectedly questions, and it's a question out of the blue. Stumps you really, why she would ask that.

"Why would I mind that?" you reply in surprise, sitting up straighter in the bed.

"You said that in your vows." Gail abjectly mutters, and that leaves you speechless.

"I know it's stupid to take that literally - but I don't have much to go by here." Gail continues in that self-degrading tone that she rarely used. You don't want to think about it - what she just said.

All you know is that she's rambling just like you would - time to use her own charm on her.

So you lean over her face - her eyes are still shut tight, she's still muttering and gesturing in the air - and gently press your lips against hers. It's a chaste kiss, a reassuring one - soft, slow and full of love. You can feel her sigh into your mouth and you slowly slide down the bed, somehow getting her to rest on top of you. You know she loves it - resting her head on your chest and slowly falling asleep. It's something Gail rarely did before the accident - and now rather loved it.

"There's still something I don't know Hol.' you hear her faintly say into your chest.

"What's that?"

"I have no idea what I'm going to do now."

* * *

><p>Gail had a very specific idea of what she wanted to do. She wanted to do something that had something to do with crime. And according to 'Doctors' Orders' - something that wasn't emotionally tied.<p>

That didn't help Gail much. She liked crime and catching criminals for the rush it gave, the pleasure of shoving a hard-to-catch criminal behind bars is what got her going. Minus all that - crime was rather a tame subject. But Gail couldn't deny her love for it. Six weeks after leaving the Force - Gail realized she couldn't sit at home forever and play the X-box. She grew restless and felt rather caged up. She had spoken to you about all sorts of careers she could take up - from Angry-Snarky T.V show host to Game Developer. You decided that it was Gail's wish - she could do anything she chose - provided it didn't get her riled up in any way.

Except Game Developer is a hard job to get, and all the roles of angry-snarky T.V. show host were already taken. So one day over dinner - after hearing Gail lament over being bored at home with absolutely nothing worth wile to do - you made a rather odd proposition to Gail.

"A crime scene photographer? Is that even a job?"

"You could be an assistant to the Forensic Pathologist." you explain.

"Come on Gail - you like photography - you're close to crime scenes all you want." you plead, knowing that this was as close to a compromise Gail could get to being her old self. You can see her fidget at the idea of being close to police officers and have to face that jealousy all over again - and you hope that the restlessness exceeded the jealousy.

At the end of the conversation - Gail's still doubtful about the whole thing - but you have a little more faith in the idea. You've both overcome the silences of the house and have fallen into this comfortable zone - and you like it more by minute. You can feel yourself believing that this was all going to be fine - and slowly feeling less anxious about passing time. But you do wish there was something you could do to help Gail feel better about herself. She still thinks of herself in this odd, self-condemning way - rather open about it than covering it with a layer of confidence. You can see that this was the Gail you fell in love with hopelessly - without the ice cold exterior. You can see Gail's grown to love you more than anything since the accident - and it's killing you to keep a secret from her.

That night - you truly felt you were going to blurt it out at her - except a question occurred to you and you decided to go with that.

"I've got to ask," you begin - not really sure what answer you're expecting - but willing to see where this goes.

"Weren't you surprised to wake up and realized you had married a woman?" you ask. It was rather a goofy evening of food and television. Gail, of course replies as quick as ever.

"I was surprised to wake up and find someone who actually loved me." she replies, damn you forgot how good a sweet-talker she could be. You take a second to swallow that.

"I was also surprised that someone still admitted to being married to me. " she jibes and you slap her hard with a cushion for that.

No doubt, the next day Gail does turn up at the crime scene - armed with her camera - one that wasn't used for a very long time. She's still nervous under the surface and not at all eager to meet anyone familiar from the force - but thankfully when Traci or Chloe do show up - they don't make a big deal out of it. You had absolutely threatened the hell out of the Forensic Pathologist who was your junior - and made her in charge of Gail. Gail didn't know of all this - but she did notice that the pathologist was rather mostly huddled over her - instead of the actual victim.

Slowly - Gail gets back into the groove of work - but it's not that much. You can see that. It's hardly a job - and though it gives Gail time with her precious DSLR, it isn't too challenging a job. Gail does help with cases from behind the scenes - Swarek and Oliver really couldn't do without her insight and theories - but it wasn't enough for Gail - and it's obvious to see.

* * *

><p>The first time you see Gail typing away furiously at the laptop was one evening - about a month or so after becoming the 15th division's "consultant." You don't give it much thought - except you've never seen Gail type so much - even when she had to type up reports. Gail was verbose yet concise - a skill you sometimes lacked in conversations. This other time you caught her chewing on a pen and staring at nothing - scribbling down points erratically. You've tried to sneak glances at what Gail was up to - but Gail was secretive as ever.<p>

Finally you give up and decide to badger her about it. It couldn't have been something serious, surely.

"What do you keep typing away on the laptop all evening?" you question over dinner while passing her something. You're eyebrow is already raised, head tilted to one side - though she doesn't remember the charms - she never fails to fall for it.

"This stupid idea I've been thinking of." she replies - washing it off as something casual. And gives in when she sees you in 'cut-the-bullshit' mode.

"It's this story I've been thinking off." she surrenders - and you're surprised. Gail? The story writer? Gail wasn't one who you had tagged as the patient writer type.

"Is it something I'd like?" you ask, taking a bite, wondering if Gail would let you read it - and she shrugs it off.

"What is it about?" you badger - seeing that Gail wasn't going to share at all if she wasn't asked.

"About this rogue cop. Who has to clear his name. With no help at all." she explains and you're rather impressed.

"A crime thriller?"

She nods, and you can't help but grin. Trust Gail to find the perfect job for herself.

Gail does show you a bit of her writing - and you're surprised. The text was fluidic and filled with intrigue - a mystery case to solve - the protagonist who has to clear his name desperately for the want of sanity. Gail was actually coming up with a rather interesting tale. You tell her it's really good but she doesn't listen. She keeps claiming the passages are repetitive and hold no suspense, criticizing her characters and their lack of logic and so forth. You leave Gail to it.

After all, you can see she's slowly becoming herself again.


End file.
